


(Don't) Ghost me

by spiritcrimson



Series: Klance meet-cute series [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Tinder, all one-shots in this series are going to be just as fluffy and cheesy i'm just saying, also there's like little miscommunication in this bc it's not klance if there's no miscommunication, this is literally just fluff and so incredibly self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-24 22:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14364825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritcrimson/pseuds/spiritcrimson
Summary: Here’s the thing: Lance is used to rejection. He’s been rejected plenty, and sure, it stings for a while, but then it fades, and he’s back in the game. Namely, back to swiping through people on Tinder.But when Lance runs into the guy who ghosted him, and he's been moping over ever since, randomly, at a cafe they were supposed to go to for their date, he realizes the Universe is either sending him a sign, or just mocking him. Knowing Lance's luck, it's probably both.





	(Don't) Ghost me

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been lacking in writing inspiration lately, and I realized: what if I just wrote a bunch of meet-cute scenarios for klance and made it a series? So this is literally what this is. A series of meet-cute one-shots. This is the first of many, hopefully. I don't know how many. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

Here’s the thing: Lance is used to rejection. He’s been rejected plenty, and sure, it stings for a while, but then it fades, and he’s back in the game. Namely, back to swiping through people on Tinder.

 

It’s almost always the same, every time: he swipes right on someone, matches with them, and then one of two things happen; either he strikes up a conversation with the person long enough to score a date with them, but then never ends up getting a second date, either because _he_ didn’t like _them_ or _they_ didn’t like _him_ , or he finds out the person he’s matched with just wants a quick hookup.

 

Now, Lance isn’t judging anyone who’s into the whole one-night-stand thing. That’s just not _his_ style, personally. He’s looking for someone to connect with, on an emotional level. He’s looking for _love._ That’s what his profile says, too. Pidge and Hunk think he’s lost his mind, because, “Who the hell looks for love on _Tinder_ , Lance!” and Lance always responds with, “Who’s to say I wouldn’t find my soulmate on here!” Pidge and Hunk always end up rolling their eyes at that, because, granted, given Lance’s track record with the app, it’s not looking too good.

 

And secretly, Lance is starting to think they’re right, because there’s only so much rejection Lance can handle, and maybe he just needs to meet people the old-fashioned way. It’s not that he’s not good at striking up conversations with people in real life, it’s just that he doesn’t quite get the time, in between classes, and his job, to mingle. Dating apps are just a thing of convenience for him, and the entire world is on Tinder, and he’s heard of people who found their soulmates on Tinder, so sue Lance for thinking he’d be one of the lucky ones, too.

 

But anyway, back to the whole losing hope thing. Because see, here’s the kicker: a secret _third_ outcome that happens far too often for Lance’s liking. He finds someone he _really likes_ , they talk for a few days, and Lance gets the sense that they’re really vibing, and maybe they’ll plan a day to hang out, and then, just like that, he gets ghosted. They stop replying, and Lance can never tell if it’s something _he_ did to put them off, in which case, he obsessively goes through their entire chat to see where things could’ve potentially gone wrong, or if they just naturally lost interest.

 

So yeah, rejections like that can start to do a real number on one’s ego. No matter what Lance does, it just never seems to work out. So, he decides to take a break from the app. Uninstalls it from his phone, because the last rejection’s still fresh in his mind, and he didn’t want to admit it to Pidge and Hunk, because he didn’t need their pitiful gazes on him, but it really stung. Because Lance was maybe starting to develop a _thing_ for the guy. He was attractive, funny (even if it wasn’t the same brand of humor Lance tended to lean towards, it was still _funny_ ), they had the same interests, and if there were interests that didn’t align with one another’s, they made an effort to learn about it. It was nice, because for once, Lance didn’t feel like he needed to hold back, didn’t feel like he was being too much. Except, Lance guesses, he was, in fact, too much for him in the end, considering he just stopped replying a day before they were supposed to meet for coffee. At this very café Lance is currently sitting in, morosely sipping on his drink, and people-watching. That was three weeks ago, and Lance still hasn’t gotten over it. Still has his app uninstalled. Still doesn’t feel like going out and meeting anyone knew. In a word, Lance is _moping._ And okay, another word: _pathetic._

 

He’s busy looking out the window, when his phone, resting on the table in front of him, buzzes with an incoming text. He glances at the home screen, sees it’s a text from Pidge. He’ll get to it later. His phone buzzes again. And again. And fucking again. Pidge is relentless when she needs to be. But Lance is stubborn, so he pointedly ignores the buzzing of his phone, instead shoving the phone into his pocket and sipping on his drink: hot chocolate with a _lotta_ whipped cream, because c’est la vie and all that. His eyes do a cursory scan of the café, looking for no one in particular, but then he stops at one particular spot, and his eyes widen.

 

No, no fucking way. There’s no way that’s—

 

“Keith?” The barista calls out, and a boy, about Lance’s age, dressed in casual clothes, hair tied into a messy ponytail, looks up from his phone. He makes his way towards the barista, grabs his drink, smiles in thanks and then sits at a table at the other end of the café. Lance can’t stop staring at him. Not because he’s attractive—which he absolutely is—but because Lance _knows_ him.

 

That’s Keith. The cause for Lance’s moping. The guy Lance has been hung up on for the past _three weeks._ The guy he was supposed to meet here, _at this very café_ , for a _date_ , three weeks ago, but who ended up ghosting Lance a day before. The Keith Lance had started developing a _thing_ for.

 

Lance knows he probably shouldn’t be staring, because Keith’s going to inevitably _feel_ Lance staring, and he’s going to look up and they’re going to make eye-contact, and wouldn’t _that_ be embarrassing? Except, that’s kind of _exactly what happens_. Because see, Lance hasn’t stopped staring, and Keith _does_ look up from his phone, and their eyes meet. Lance tries not to panic, tries to play it cool, but is almost certain he’s failing. But what’s surprising is how easily Keith’s gaze moves _away_ from Lance’s. Isn’t he at least a little shocked at seeing Lance here, the guy he basically ghosted a day before their date? If Lance were in his place, he’d look at least a little uncomfortable. But Keith looks entirely unaffected, nonchalant, just casually going back to looking at his phone and sipping on his drink.

 

What the hell?

 

Before Lance can even really think about what he’s doing, and why it’s such a bad idea, he’s getting up from his seat and striding purposefully towards Keith. Once at Keith’s table, he just stands still for a moment, before clearing his throat to get Keith’s attention.

 

Keith looks up at him, eyebrow arched in question.

 

“Uh,” Lance says and internally cringes at how squeaky his voice sounds, “Keith?”

 

Keith frowns. “Do I know you?”

 

Wait. Wait. What? “Uh? Lance?” Keith just blinks, face showing no recognition whatsoever. “We matched on Tinder?” Mumbling: “You ended up ghosting me.”

 

At that, Keith’s eyes finally widen in recognition. “Oh,” he says, almost guiltily. He glances down at his drink, instead of looking at Lance. “I remember you.”

 

There’s a beat of awkward silence. Lance shuffles uncomfortably on his feet, Keith continues to not meet his gaze. Lance realizes he made a mistake. He really should not have come up to Keith. Literally, what was he even expecting? A second chance? Yeah, right. Besides, Lance is probably being really pushy right now, possibly making Keith uncomfortable, making him feel like he owes Lance an explanation. And sure, maybe Lance would _like_ an explanation, but that’s _his_ problem. _Not_ Keith’s. He should just apologize for this entire thing, and just straight up book it from here, go to Hunk’s apartment, and then just eat all of Hunk’s food while he continues to mope more but this time, in Hunk’s arms. Yeah, that’s a good plan.

 

“I’m sorry—”

 

“Listen, Lance—”

 

They both stare at each other. Keith blinks. Lance blinks. No one says a word. More awkwardness.

 

“Um,” Lance is the one to break it, because Keith just looks flustered, and Lance distinctly remembers Keith warning him that he struggles with a bit of social anxiety, and he’d need Lance to take the reins on their date. So, with a little more confidence, Lance continues, “I’ll go first. I’m, uh, sorry. For confronting you like this. I didn’t mean to confront you. It’s just, I saw you, and before I could even think about it, I was at your table. I didn’t _mean_ to make you uncomfortable. I’ll go, and you don’t owe me an explanation. It’s all cool, I get it. I mean, sure, I was lowkey sad about it, but like, it’s not your fault at all, and I just wanna say, I enjoyed all our conversations so much, and you’re a cool guy, and I just…” He trails off at Keith’s wide-eyed look, because _fuck_ , he ended up rambling. So much for playing it cool. “Uh,” he laughs nervously, “Point is, I’m sorry. And I’ll leave now.”

 

He’s about to turn around and do just that, but stops when he hears Keith’s soft, “Wait.” Keith isn’t exactly meeting his gaze, but Lance knows he didn’t imagine that. He stays where he is, and asks, “Excuse me?” He winces, because that probably sounded rude.

 

Keith, thankfully, doesn’t think it did, and instead meets Lance’s gaze head-on, some of his awkwardness disappearing. He keeps his gaze on Lance as he gestures at the empty chair opposite him. “Sit?” He asks hopefully.

 

Lance looks between the empty chair and Keith’s hopeful face uncertainly. “Uh,” he begins, cautiously, “You sure? I can just leave, dude.”

 

“Lance,” Keith says, and Lance notes with some awe, that Keith looks far more confident and sure of himself now, “Just _sit._ ”

 

Lance takes a seat, still unsure about the sudden turn in events. Needless to say, when he first showed up at Keith’s table, he hadn’t expected it to go this way. He isn’t even sure what _this_ is. Once he’s comfortable, or as comfortable as he can get considering the incredibly uncomfortable circumstances, Keith asks, “You want a drink?”

 

And that’s when Lance remembers. His drink, that he abandoned at the table on the opposite end of the café. “I’m good, thanks.” He answers, trying to feign nonchalance.

 

Keith eyes him for a moment, and then abruptly gets up, and heads over to the barista, giving Lance _zero_ explanation. He really wasn’t kidding when he said he was bad with words, was he? Lance watches as Keith says something to the barista, presumably asking her what drink Lance ordered from her, because she glances in his direction briefly, and then smiles at Keith and says something, and then Keith hands her his card. She does the needful, and then Keith’s heading back to the table and sitting down. He takes a nonchalant sip of his drink as Lance merely stares at him. He meets Lance’s gaze and asks, “What?”

 

“Did you just buy me a drink?” It’s a dumb question, because that’s exactly what Keith just did, but still. What Lance meant to ask was _why_ Keith had bought him a drink.

 

“I did,” Keith confirms anyway, “Hot chocolate with whipped cream, right?”

 

He’s so _chill_ about this entire thing and Lance doesn’t understand _why._ “Okay, I’m officially lost. Why did you ask me to sit with you? Why are you buying me a drink?”

 

Keith shrugs. “It’s what you do on a date, right?” Then, a little self-consciously, he adds, “I mean, it’s what I’ve been told, anyway. I don’t have a lot of practice with this.”

 

“This?” Lance feels like a dumbass, either repeating words or asking dumb questions, but he can’t help it. Keith’s not making any sense. “What’s this?”

 

“Dating?” Keith says, like it’s obvious, like Lance is being so incredibly _dense_ right now for _not_ realizing they’re on a date. As if Keith hadn’t randomly ghosted Lance for three weeks.

 

“Are we on a date right now? Is that what’s happening right now?” Lance asks.

 

Keith’s newfound confidence somewhat falters at that, but he’s saved from having to respond immediately, because that’s when the barista calls for him. He quickly excuses himself and takes Lance’s drink from her, and then makes his way back. He awkwardly hands Lance the drink, and Lance takes it from him just as awkwardly, and then Keith takes a seat again and it’s all just. Awkward again.

 

“Keith?” Lance reminds.

 

“I mean, we were going to meet here for our date anyway, right?” Keith answers, trying to force his confidence back.

 

And suddenly, Lance understands. He _gets_ it. Keith feels _guilty_ , and he’s just trying to make Lance feel better about being ditched. “Dude,” Lance says, almost frantic, “You’re not obligated to go on a date with me. That’s not why I—I wasn’t trying to force you into a date, that’s not the kind of guy I am, I swear, I don’t even know why I—”

 

“Lance,” Keith cuts him off, and he looks part horrified and part amused, as weird of a combination as that sounds. “I’m not doing this out of obligation.”

 

“Then _why?_ ”

 

“Because I want to?” Keith says, as if it’s that simple and uncomplicated.

 

“Dude, you obviously _didn’t_ want to. You ghosted me a day before our date. I can take a hint,” Lance argues. “And I told you, it’s totally cool. I understand.”

 

“Okay,” Keith sighs, “You’re right.”

 

And wow, does that hurt to hear. Well, it’s fine. Lance can handle rejection. He’s used to it, remember? He makes to stand up, but Keith continues talking, “I did ghost you, but not for the reason you think.”

 

Uh, _what?_ “What?” Lance echoes his thought.

 

Keith looks guilty when he speaks next. “I, uh, liked you. A lot, actually. I enjoyed our conversations, and you made me feel comfortable. But then we planned to hang out, and it just made everything a lot more real. And I got, well, nervous. I chickened out, basically. I needed more time to prepare myself, mentally, and I just didn’t know how to tell you that.”

 

Lance stares at Keith, speechless. His brain’s still stuck on ‘I liked you,’ and ‘I got nervous’, and ‘chickened out’. Was that really the reason Keith ghosted him? “So, you decided ghosting was easier?” Lance asks, just to be sure, and free of any accusations. He totally respects Keith’s reasoning. He’s just trying to confirm things for himself, just to be absolutely sure. Can’t afford any more misunderstandings right now.

 

Keith just nods, looking guiltier by the second. “I’m sorry,” he says. “Wasn’t my smartest move.”

 

And just like that, Lance feels all his doubts and insecurities vanish into thin air. Poof. Gone, along with the past three weeks’ worth of moping he’s done. All he feels is a lightness in his chest, and he knows he’s grinning like an idiot, but he can’t help it. Keith looks confused by his grinning, confused because he was probably expecting Lance to be mad at him or something, but then a few seconds later, when Lance’s grin remains unwavering, he matches it with a small one of his own.

 

“So,” Lance says, his previously lost confidence returning full force, “You still like me?”

 

Keith flushes but quietly nods. “Yeah,” he says, softly, “I do.”

 

“Well then,” Lance says happily, raising his cup in the air, staring at Keith’s own cup pointedly until Keith realizes Lance wants them to bump their cups together in a weird rendition of a toast. Keith laughs and does so. “Here’s to date number one.” Lance finishes, setting his cup down on the table, and Keith does the same.

 

“Here’s to date number one,” he repeats, smiling softly at Lance. “I’m sorry for ghosting you.”

 

“All’s forgiven,” Lance responds, leaning forward, smiling just as softly, “As long as you promise not to ghost me again.”

 

“You’re that certain about a second date?” Keith asks playfully. “What if this date goes badly?”

 

Lance’s confidence doesn’t waver. He simply winks at Keith. “I’ll take my chances.”

 

Keith shakes his head and they both go silent once more, but this time it’s less awkward. It’s more comfortable.

 

“I won’t,” Keith says, softly, after a moment and Lance just hums in response. “I won’t ghost you, I promise.”

 

Lance just grins widely at that.

 

-x-

 

Their first date ends up being a success, by the end of which, Keith and Lance exchange numbers. From then on, they take to texting each other, day in and day out.

 

On their second date, they go out for dinner at a fancy restaurant, sponsored by Keith’s very generous (and very annoying) brother, because, “I’ve never seen you this interested in anyone before, Keith. I’m just happy for you!” Keith thinks it’s annoying, Lance thinks that’s sweet, and wishes his siblings did that for him.

 

At the end of their second date, as Keith drops Lance off at his apartment, and walks him to his doorstep, they share their first kiss. It’s Keith’s first kiss ever, period, but it’s the first kiss Lance’s ever had that’s made him _feel_ things. So, he pretends that’s his first kiss ever, too.

 

Lance asks Keith to be his boyfriend after their fifth date, nearly a month after their first, impromptu date at the café. Keith doesn’t think twice before he says yes. They’re both each other’s first boyfriends. It’s kind of a big deal.

 

And two months after _that_ , when they’re just chilling in Lance’s apartment, watching T.V and Lance is grossly stuffing his mouth with pizza, Keith blurts out, “I love you.” Lance takes a good few seconds to finish chewing, and then painfully swallows the pizza.

 

“What?” He asks, unsure if he heard right.

 

Keith looks incredibly nervous, as he repeats, “I love you. I know it’s too early, but I don’t know, I just feel like I should tell you, because it’s how I feel, and I—,”

 

Lance cuts him off with a kiss, and it’s kind of gross, and tastes of pizza and it’s all greasy and messy, but Keith just told Lance he _loves_ him, and Lance loves _Keith_ , but hadn’t been sure Keith was ready to hear it yet, but now Lance can _tell_ him. And so, he pulls away from Keith and says, happily, “I love you, too.”

 

Keith smiles so bright, Lance is positive it could rival the sun.

 

They go back to watching T.V and eating pizza, but then midway through, Lance remembers something, so he reaches for his phone and quickly types something into it. He then throws his phone onto the couch carelessly, and scoots closer to Keith, laying his head on his shoulder. Keith looks at him curiously.

 

“Nothing, just had to send an important text, it’s all good,” Lance answers. Keith accepts that, and they go back to what they were doing.

 

-x-

_**From:** Lance_  
_**To:** Pidge, Hunk_

_(20:30) You guys were wrong!_

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Just like Lance, I've been ghosted literally every time by people I actually liked, and then I end up ghosting people I don't like. It's a harsh world we live in. I still haven't found the Keith to my Lance, though. Maybe someday.
> 
> Anyway, feedback is appreciated! Thank you so much for taking the time to read!


End file.
